


One on One

by Lizardbeth



Series: Nellis 'Verse [4]
Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Earth, F/M, Nellis-verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-03
Updated: 2010-05-03
Packaged: 2017-10-09 06:45:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardbeth/pseuds/Lizardbeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kara and Sam meet for the first time on the ball court.  (Earth AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	One on One

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my Nellis 'Verse Earth AU, where Kara and Sam both are pilots at Nellis AFB in Nevada.

She hears the clang and smack of someone playing on the basketball court outside her office. She'd yell at him for annoying her, except that would require opening the window and she loves her a/c too much for that. It's the squadron commander of the Bucs, the new Raptor training squad. They swagger around like they own the place even though Kara can outfly them in her Hornet (though she will admit to Helo, when drunk, that they're still learning their new birds).

Then she forgets to be annoyed as she watches. Cpt. Samuel Anders is shooting baskets alone. He's down to just shorts and in the slanted orange light of the sunset, his skin shines with sweat, gleaming on the muscles of his chest and back as he moves. She watches for a while, admiring. He makes more shots than he misses, and his form is good. There's a powerful grace to his movements that wants to echo inside her, and calls her to move, too.

She goes outside. "Hey, Longshot. Not bad. Did you play in college?"

He gives her a look like she's supposed to know. "Forward for Gonzaga," he answers, turning to shoot again. The ball swishes through the basket. "We made the semis my year."

She remembers now. She'd been in high school, but who could forget Anders' sweet half-court shot at the buzzer to get into the Final Four? It had been all over the news, and she remembers thinking he was pretty cute. But she isn't going to tell him that. "Ah, yes, I remember. Kansas kicked your ass."

He makes a face as he retrieves the ball, then shoots it at her, hard. "You play?"

She catches it easily and smirks at him. "High school state champ, baby. Bring it." She dribbles, and he guards, and they move across the court as she looks for an opening. Her shoulder brushes his as she tries to drive past, but he pushes her. "Foul, Anders."

"I don't hear any whistle. Unless you want to stop?" he challenges, and she narrows her eyes at him and feints to one side. But he's not fooled, getting right in her space. He's tall and big - she has the random thought that he must barely clear the height maximum. Then he commits a reaching foul and tries to grab the ball away. But she doesn't let go, bringing her against him, with the ball between them. So she elbows him hard enough to get the ball away, and spins away, laughing. She makes the point easily and it's his turn.

He tries to shoot over her head, and she gets right up against him, hands waving in his face. But the part she notices is her breasts against his chest, and how the sweat is sticking the fabric of her shirt to her body. He goes to shoot again, and since he's such a dirty cheater, she decides to be one, too, and presses her whole body against his, hard nipples rubbing his skin.

He stops, stunned, and she laughs, darting around him. "Catholic boy not know what to do with a woman?" she taunts and shoots.

He lets the ball fall wherever and grabs her shoulder. He spins her around, right into him, and their chests are heaving for breath. "Oh, I embraced a life of sin a long time ago, baby," he murmurs, and his mouth is on her, demanding, with a hand on her face. It must be the heat, but her head spins and she leans into him. She doesn't want him to think he's dominating this, so she presses back harder, lips and tongue. Her hands find his waist and back and slide down to his ass, and he makes a noise in his throat at the touch that makes her heart start to race.

He kisses down her neck, and she shivers with a tingle that races through her body. And she wants him - wants to touch him all over, wants him inside her - but not out here where anyone can see. "Inside," she orders and gets to her office. She slams the door and locks it, and then he's put her back to the door and kissing her again. The air's cold, but his body warms her as he palms her waist and under her shirt to her breasts. His touch - little caresses and pinches - make her hungry for more. She hooks a leg around his, tight enough she can feel his growing arousal through the thin athletic shorts, and she grins against his lips. Her fingers slip down his sweat-damp chest, pinching the small nipple on her way, and down his stomach to cup him between the legs.

"God," he groans and his eyelids flutter as she squeezes. "Wanted you from the minute I saw you," he admits, breathing hard as he hardens under her touch. Which she doesn't believe, because their first meeting she'd been an impatient, sarcastic bitch, deliberately deflating his cockiness so he'd pay attention to her. Though she definitely likes how this cockiness fills her hand. "When I saw you fly," he adds.

That needs some kind of reward so she pulls down his shorts to wrap her fingers around his heated skin. "C'mon, Sammy," she coaxes, pulling him. "You gotta be harder than this if we're gonna do it."

"Oh yeah? What are we gonna do?" he asks, and his voice is low and hits her right between the thighs. He holds her around the waist, lifting her up and carrying her the two steps to her desk. One handed, he shoves her files out of the way and just that fast, her back's on her desk and his lips suck at her neck while his hips are heavy on hers. She's still dressed and she wiggles against him, trying to get a hand in between to undo her pants. "Sam. Pants off."

He freezes and hauls in a deep breath, struggling to find a rational thought. "I, uh, I don't know," he starts and she glares at him.

"You are _not_ stopping here," she orders.

He grins down at her, and he's got one hand back on her breast, finger teasing the very tip. "I don't want to, I think you can tell, but my wallet with the condoms is in my locker."

She rolls her eyes. "Good thing one of us is prepared." Wriggling half out from under him and turning over, she yanks out the top drawer as far as it will go and comes out with the box of condoms.

When she turns back over, he's eyeing the box and lifts a brow. "You keep condoms in your desk?"

"What? You thought you were the first hot flyboy at Nellis?" she mocks. For an instant, his gaze flickers, then he flashes a grin and he opens her pants.

"Good to know where we stand," he says and pulls off both pants and panties, tossing them to her chair. For a moment, he admires her, hand tracing her curves with a gentleness she wouldn't have expected. Then his fingers travel up inside her thighs, pass feathery light across her lips and then smoothly dip between, freeing her wetness. He knows what he's doing - his fingers are quick but unhesitating as he explores the pressure she wants on her clit and how she wants his fingers inside her. She likes all of it, but most of all how his eyes seem dark and refuse to look away, watching as every touch of his fingers reflects in her face. He learns quickly, and she's swollen and aching and tight on his fingers when heat shatters through her.

While she's catching her breath, he rips open the condom, but before he can put it on, she snatches it out of his hand. "Gimme. I like this part."

"I hope you liked the part before, too," he teases but steps back a pace so she can sit up. Her fingers trail along his length as she rolls it up, and he seems to get just that touch bigger and harder.

"I liked it," she whispers and feathers her fingers across his balls, making his hips flex. "But now I want this, and you, right now."

"Oh, thank god, because if you said no, I was going to have to go wank off in the shower, and that's not nearly as much fun," he says, and she's wondering if he ever shuts up when he's suddenly there, pressing inside. And fuck, his fingers were nothing like this - it almost feels like he's all the way up in her chest because she can hardly breathe. "You feel so good," he tells her, hoarsely, teeth clenched and his grip on her legs is bruising.

She can't talk to tell him the same, just manages to gasp out something intended to be his name, and then, hits his shoulder with a fist, "Move."

He moves. He fucks like he plays basketball and how he flies, and probably how he waters the lawn and eats dinner: giving himself over to the moment, completely. And so does she.

She is writhing on the top of her desk, as he pushes her into a tiny little ball of pure fire and it can't possibly wind any tighter and then it does. She reaches out blindly for something to hold onto, and claws at his shoulders as he drives into her, and the tension gripping her finally snaps like a wave of fire. She closes her eyes and for just an instant, she's totally gone, lost in the rush.

She's coming down, when he loses his rhythm, faltering into spasms of deep drives and straining stillness, until finally he lets out a long broken breath and hangs his head down to kiss her chest. "That was almost exactly how I imagined it would be," he murmurs.

"You imagined having sex with me on my desk?" she asks, amused, and combs a hand through his sweaty hair.

"Maybe not the desk part," he admits, and she chuckles.

"I wouldn't mind doing it again, someplace else though. Because you're fucking heavy, and my desk is hard."

That gets him to move, like she intended, but she feels cold when he pulls out. They get dressed in silence and she invites impulsively, "You want to go grab dinner at the club? I'm starving."

"Me, too." His smile is bright, and the touch of his hand on her arm makes little zings between her legs. "Give me fifteen to shower and change."

She watches him slip out the door and absently straightens her files, wondering if the sex smell is ever coming out of her desk blotter, and whether she should tell him she won the condoms in a bet. Maybe later. After a few beers and some more sex tonight, because she plans to hit that some more, if she has her way.


End file.
